Brown Curls and Green Eyes
by adventuresinstorybrooke
Summary: Set three years after the curse, Emma is faced with the fact that she's pregnant. And there is one person that she's the most nervous to tell. Her mother. In those three years, Snow has been unable to have more children of her own, and Emma doesn't want to cause her more pain. What will happen when she's forced to tell her? Mostly fluff and bonding, as usual.
1. Chapter 1

**I had been mulling the idea around for a while and after 2x03, finally decided to get my butt in gear. Hope you like it. Many thanks to msynergy for beta-ing and always being there to calm (or increase, more like) my Emma feels.**

**Set in Storybrooke, 3 years after the curse was broken. Established Gremma (didn't include how Graham is back, in the plot). Three-shot.**

In Emma Swan's mind, her day could not get any worse. Or at least that was what she'd thought.

She'd overslept, worn mismatching socks, stepped in a puddle outside the Sheriff's station, forgotten her lunch, and discovered that one of the tires on the cruiser was flat. Therefore, when she stomped into the station and slumped into her desk chair which a dramatic sigh, it was completely justified.

Graham would be in the woods for most of the day, as he was every Wednesday, while she took care of the town on her own for the day. She understood that he needed to spend time out there to keep his sanity, but she still felt a piece of her missing on those days.

The heat of the office suddenly swarmed her so she unzipped and shrugged off her puffy coat, and brought it to the coat hanger in the corner of the room. Turning to walk back to her desk, her shoe bumped a small object and she heard it fire across the floor with a light clattering sound. The noise made her jump slightly, but she only laughed when she walked to it and saw that it was one of Henry's old metal figurines. He used to bring them in and set up battles between princes, back before the curse was broken. Back when such battles seemed unfathomable.

But that was years ago. The small toy must have been drifting around on the floor for three years now, at least. A twinge of sentimentally tugged at her heart as she remembered him being so young. Now he was a fourteen year old man-in-the-making. And she couldn't be more proud of how he'd turned out.

Bending down to pick up the trinket, she held it with her fingers, her elbows tucked to her sides. She studied it for a moment before something far more day-altering caught her eye. She moved her hands so that they no longer blocked her view of her lower body, and as her eyes finished focusing, she froze.

_What the hell is THAT….? _Glaring blatantly in her line of sight was a bump. A rather obvious, but still very small bump set gracefully in the center of her lower torso. _Shit. _

Emma's mind shot backward, hurriedly pulling forth memories. _I'd had at least another month the last time. _She calculated the time in her head and the math stood up. Then why did it appear so early? And so sudden? She was her typical flat self just last night….

Just as she was about to call Graham, which wouldn't have done much good considering he was out of reach of cell service, she remembered something her high school Home-Ec teacher had briefly mentioned once. "_You always show sooner with the second, and the ones following."_

Why hadn't she remembered that? This little, literal, bump was causing a whole mess of problems in her original timeline. She'd thought she had at least another four weeks to prepare. To rehearse what she was going to say. It was big news to break, and she wasn't looking forward to it. And she feared how they were going to take it. Not well, she assumed.

Now she really didn't have much of a choice; unless she wanted to wear her puffy jacket to dinner tomorrow night. And even if she did, Snow would definitely know that something was up.

And of course, Emma wasn't exactly the type to own loose shirts. Maybe this was just fate's way of giving her a push.

She sure wished it would stop doing that.

Emma inhaled deeply. Tomorrow night was going to be _very_ interesting. Telling your parents you were pregnant was difficult enough as it is. But when they were incredibly protective, and also aware that you were _not_ married to the father of the child, and also knew how to use swords, it made it all the more complicated.

Staring down at the subtle protuberance that was her stomach, she felt incredibly conflicted. Her internal monologues had been becoming more overwhelming as of late. She was constantly worried about everyone else's feelings, or thoughts, and never knew if she was a disappointment, or if she wasn't trying hard enough. Even after four years of knowing her family, and three of actually being one.

Four years.

She hadn't even realized how long it had been. She hadn't ever known one person for longer than two years; at least that she could remember.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startled the blonde from her thoughts. Absent-mindedly placing a hand over the rounded spot she looked in the direction of the noise. Standing in the doorway was none other than Red. The woman with the long dark hair had her eyebrows raised, and judging by the tightness with which she held her lips together and the wrinkling at the corners of her eyes, she was stifling a laugh.

Yet something in her expression still looked empathetic. Emma traced the woman's gaze, which lead to her hand-covered stomach. And suddenly she realized what her friend found so humorous.

"It's not funny!" she cried with exasperation. In response, the dam broke and Red snorted, breaking into soft laughter.

"Emma…it's really not a big deal. You _knew _this would happen," Red reasoned, making her way into the office with the breakfast Emma had called down for not an hour ago.

"What am I gonna do? I thought I had more time. I mean, I could stretch it another few weeks if you let me borrow some clothes, but after a while…I'm screwed." She was scrambling for ideas. Did she really fear their reaction this much? Or was it that after her parents and son knew she'd have to begin telling everyone else? And that would only make this all the more real.

Having Graham know hadn't been too bad, though it'd taken her a week to get up the nerve to tell him, and Red had figured it out on her own when Emma had accidentally let down her defenses one day.

_Granny's diner on a Monday morning was just what Emma had needed. Sitting across from Snow at their usual table, she took a moment to relax a bit before diving into the week. The past three weeks had been particularly stressful, between finding out life altering news and then fretting over it for days before dropping the bomb on her unsuspecting partner in crime. _

_They sat peacefully, allowing the roar of the bustling room to fill their ears. Sometimes noise was more comforting than silence. And Emma could use some comfort._

_Snow left to use the restroom and Red brought their drinks over cheerfully and greeted Emma. "Hi Emma, how's the sheriffing going?"_

_"Not bad. Although we have been having some trouble with missing cats…You wouldn't know anything about that would you?" Emma toyed._

_Red immediately turned a snowy gray color, to which the blonde responded, "Whoa, I was just kidding. Relax."_

_The brunette's face relaxed, "Right. Sorry. I was worried I might be having a problem again. It's not like I would really know." She gave a half-hearted shrug. _

_Emma happily reached forward and brought her warm cocoa toward her. "Thanks Red," she said with a slight wave of the mug, and bringing it to her mouth. Just as she was about to sip, the smell of cinnamon hit her nose and she immediately turned a ghastly shade of green. Moving quickly, she set it down and shoved it away, breathing deep to calm her urge to release her innards._

_This did not go unnoticed._

_Red held her gaze on her paling friend. Her eyes focused and squinted slightly as she studied Emma's actions. Suddenly she gasped. "Oh my god! I can't believe I didn't notice it before!" she whispered loudly._

_Emma's eyes shot up and widened drastically. "What do you mean?" She was scrambling to cover her tracks._

_"Oh you know _exactly _what I mean…" Red replied with an accusatory tone, leaning close to the blonde, her voice low. "You're pre—"_

_Emma immediately lurched toward her and covered Red's mouth with her hand. The waitress' eyes flashed with confusion and surprise, and she tried to pull back._

_"Not here," Emma commanded._

_The blonde dramatically dragged Red through the back door and into the small laundry room. Relieved at finding it empty, she checked that both doors were shut, locked one from the inside and stood near enough to the other that she could close it at a moment's notice, and turned the brunette._

_Red's mouth was agape and her eyes were alight with a smile. "You're PREGNANT. Oh my god Emma!"_

_Emma winced. She still disliked hearing that word—pregnant—it made her heart stop and her head swim with fears. In response all she could manage was a grimaced nod._

_ "Okay first…what was all THAT?" Red asked with a chuckle. Who would've known…Emma was one for the dramatics. _

_"Look. From past experience, I've learned that the people in this town are not the BEST at being discrete, so I'd rather be somewhere ENTIRELY private when you shout out my very, up until this point at least, well-hidden secret." Emma's eyes were fierce, but she wasn't putting out any sort of anger._

_Red opened her mouth to argue but the blonde stopped her. "And don't give me the 'we were cursed' line. That doesn't work for me…. And as much as I was HOPING," she added, looking upwards and letting out a puff of air, "to hold off this conversation with ANYONE for at least another month or two, I have a feeling I don't have much of a choice at this point."_

_"And how did you even figure it out?" Emma asked. If she was doing a poor job of hiding it, she had to find out what needed to be fixed._

_"You forget that I knew Snow when _she _was pregnant," Red answered simply. "I had thought that there was something off, yet so familiar, about you these last couple weeks but for the life of me I couldn't figure it out. At least not until you made that face when you went to drink your cocoa. Whether you would like to think so or not, you look JUST like your mother when you have morning sickness. I'd know that look anywhere."_

_Emma's head tilted slightly, still wondering how Red would have drawn the connection. _

_Red sighed. "You've got that weird princess glow thing going on, you ordered bread with olive oil the other day, and you do that 'lost in thought about my child' thing. Snow _INVENTED _all those things. Especially the bread and olive oil; which I will never understand, by the way."_

_Emma sighed. "Okay, fine, whatever. But now that you know, you CANNOT tell ANYONE about this. ESPECIALLY Snow. I haven't quite figured out how to break the news to people yet. Much less myself."_

_Red nodded fervently. "Of course. If you need anything at all though just let me know. It's good to have at least one person watching out for you."_

"Red!" she whined, "What am I gonna DO?"

The waitress just looked at her with an empathetic smile. "I think the first step would be telling someone else, besides me or Graham. And I think you know who I'm referring to. Get the most difficult one out of the way."

Emma sighed. She really had no other choice.

**No Snow in this chapter but I promise she's up next! Reviews are appreciated :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Completely blown away by all the follows and favorites for this story, and one of the central characters didn't even show up yet! Thank you all so SO much.**

The two women lounged in Snow and Charming's bedroom, the drapes open on the vacant apartment. Side by side, the leaned up against the headboard, each submerged in a novel.

Or at least trying to appear that they were.

Emma's head swam with conflicting arguments over whether or not to tell her mother the situation or to remain in denial and hope that time would stop for a while so she wouldn't have to. On more than one occasion she felt her chest move as if she were about to speak but no sound ever left her lungs. She was getting absolutely nowhere, and the clock was ticking.

"Emma." Snow stated the name in an attempt to break her daughter from her very apparent trance.

Emma looked up at the brunette, the daydream fading from her eyes and tilted her head in question.

Snow sighed. "You've been playing with the loose string from you t-shirt for the last five minutes. And you only do that when you're upset or nervous, so which is it?"

Emma just looked at Snow, surprised at her blatant observation—which was oddly accurate.

"Are you really going to make me do this?" Snow sighed again, pushing herself up straighter against the headboard. Without another word she just stared directly into Emma's eyes and waited.

Emma exhaled and spoke softly, "It's nothing. I don't know..." She clumsily crawled down and repositioned herself so that she lay longways across the foot of the bed and stared at the ceiling, her hands discreetly trying to cover the curvature between her hips. The parallel of this moment to one they'd had years before was pressing forward in her mind. They'd sat in this same position, spoke about family, and it had ended with her walking out. Not in any sort of anger, but she _had_ been somewhat running from the inevitable emotion of it all. Their conversations had been so much more natural back then; it had all been so much easier.

Emma fidgeted in her spot and glanced around before returning her gaze to the former schoolteacher. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yeah." Snow chuckled lightly as she responded. Internally she was roaring with laughter at the obvious energy emanating from the blonde.

Emma exhaled. _Just do it, _she told herself. _It's like a band-aid, just rip it off._

She mustered her courage, and sat up, pulling her legs into an Indian-style sit, and plopping her hands in her lap. She kept her gaze low as she formulated her thoughts. She was hoping to speak clearly but instead out burst a slur of rambling words.

"I need to tell you something, and before I do I want you to know that I'm really sorry. And I won't blame you in any way for your reaction to what I'm about to say. It's gonna be a lot to take in and I trust you, I do, I just want you to be okay, and…." Emma paused and inhaled. "I know that you haven't been able to have more of your own, and that was really hard for you. And I still believe you will, it just takes time, but right now THIS probably isn't gonna help. And I'm sorry. And I just…."

She breathed, "I'm pregnant."

Snow smirked, "Mmhmm…and?"

Emma was baffled. "And… _that's it_." Her eyes were scanning rapidly over the other woman's calm face. "You're not freaking out. Why am I the only one freaking out here?" She cried softly.

Emma was horribly confused by the "duh" look on Snow's face, but then it dawned on her. "You knew…! How did you know? Was it Red? Oh, I could kill her!"

Snow's soft laughter startled Emma as it wove through the room. But just as soon as Snow's smile had come, it left, as she had a realization. Suddenly a look of hurt consumed her face and she looked directly at her daughter.

"Red _knew?_ You told her….Before _me?" _Her voice clearly relayed the betrayed feeling she had.

Emma rushed to lean forward and grabbed Snow's hand to get her attention. "She figured it out on her own—I promise—I made her swear not to tell anyone. I wanted to give it some time before telling you. I didn't know how you'd react. I promise you are the first person I have actually _told _besides Graham."

Snow's face softened as she processed her daughter's words.

"But, aside from that. How did you know?! It obviously wasn't Red who told you then…" Emma sat back, running through her mind anyone else that could have figured it out and told Snow.

"Seriously?!" the brunette retorted with a returning grin. "Emma, you're my daughter, you honestly thought I wouldn't catch on? I _have_ been pregnant before you know. With _you,_ no less. I know the signs. A stomach bug? It was a nice try really. But the rest you couldn't have hidden better if you'd tried. Your face is fuller—you're not fat, don't _even_ go there—you've been unnaturally glowing for weeks, and that's not just a fairytale princess thing you inherited from me, and I don't think I have ever seen you eat so much in the four years that I have known you, and don't even get me started on _those."_

Snow pointedly nodded toward Emma's chest, who responded with flushed cheeks, and a look of horrified embarrassment. "And besides, I know you well enough to tell when something is different."

"And sweetheart…" Emma's mind contracted at the term of endearment, "If you're going to try and hide it once you're _showing_ you should next time consider investing in some not so skin-tight clothing."

"Wha—" Emma removed her hands from her lap and look down at her stomach. "Is it really that obvious? I thought people might think I'd just eaten too many pies or something…"

Snow threw her an understanding smile, and tried not to look too intently at the bump of her daughter's abdomen. She was thrilled for her but Emma greatly disliked such looks. "Yeah…probably not."

Emma got up from the bed exasperatedly and walked over the mirror to examine her reflection. She stood sideways, allowing her profile to fill the frame. In her opinion she looked relatively the same, but as her eyes traces down her outline she realized that the mound was more obvious than she had hoped. Contracting the muscles in her abdomen, she watched for a moment, but released when her hopes were squandered.

"Seriously? I can't even suck it in?"

Snow chuckled from her place on the bed. "Emma…you _are_ Henry's mother aren't you?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Of course, but I didn't have this problem last time. I was on my own; I didn't have anyone to hide it from. How was I supposed to know it's hard to mask?"

The brunette sighed and joined her daughter in front of the mirror. For a minute she just stared at their blatant resemblance… the face, the long flowing locks that she'd once had, the relaxed stature, the small but strong limbs, all of it. Glancing toward the right edge of the mirror she saw Emma's eyes reflecting directly back at her. She turned to face the physical form of her daughter and gave her a kind smile.

"You really do look like me, you know." Snow knew the moment was brimming on being too sweet for Emma, but she HAD to throw in one last comment.

"And you know. If you have a daughter, the odds are, she'll look like you too. I looked just like _my _mother, and she did, hers. It seems to be a trend in our family."

Emma pales slightly at the word "daughter." She hadn't even considered that it wouldn't be another boy. She was so used to thinking of herself as a mother with a son. She'd never pictured herself with a girl. Snow immediately noticed this and grasped Emma's arms, turning the blonde towards her.

"Emma. You are going to be a wonderful mother."

Emma's eyes shied away, clearly not believing her mother. Snow huffed and brought the girl to the bed and sat across from her, but not too close so as to cause discomfort.

"I'm going to tell something. Something that no living person knows, except myself." She paused and took a few breaths, making sure that she gave Emma time to start paying attention, at least partly.

"And mind you, your father doesn't even know this, so please keep it between us." Emma nodded slightly. "Before I got married to your father, I was poisoned by King George so that I could never have children."

This piece of information finally caught the blonde's attention and her blue eyes flickered upward. She moved to question but Snow continued.

"In the end I was healed, but throughout the course of my curse I kept thinking that it was all for the best. My own mother had died when I was very young, so I had never experienced being cared for by a mother. I didn't think I'd be good one, myself. And as you could guess, Regina didn't fill very much of that void.

"I was so afraid to be a parent and when I found out that I was pregnant with you I was ridden with worry. Of course I was overjoyed, but I didn't know if I would be able to protect you. I doubted myself; many nights I would lay awake, normally when you were very active, and think about the fact that I would be entirely responsible for how you turned out. And that scared me more than anything.

"But the minute I held you in my arms…for the few seconds that I knew that you would always be mine…"

Snow's words cut off as she attempted to compose herself before tears began to fall. Emma had never been comfortable in the midst of someone who was emotional, and she didn't want to cause her to leave.

Emma sighed. She realized what her mother was trying to prove. And now, when it seemed as though her parents may never be successful in having another child of their own, and there wasn't an explanation for their struggles, it was more troubling. They would never be able to raise their own child from the very beginning, and here she was, fretting over the possibility that she'd _have to. _She also understood that what Snow said was all true, but fear was fear. It would take more than a few words to wipe it away. As if reading her mind, Snow added a final comment.

"And I know that testimonies and speeches don't really help, but I promise you Emma, you'll be fine. You may not have raised Henry from infancy, but you are definitely responsible for how he is now. And he's a fine young man."

Emma allowed a small smile of pride to creep onto her face. Snow caught this and crinkled the corners of her eyes in response. Looking to move the subject to slightly less deep subjects, Emma straightened herself up.

"But we still have a problem."

Snow responded with a concerned, "What is it?"

"I have very few children-related skills. I can't change a diaper, I don't think I've ever even touched one; I have no idea how to hold the kid, or make a bottle, and get it to stop crying. I've heard they cry a lot…"

Interrupting the blonde's thought, Snow laughed loudly. "Well of course not! Neither do I. I still haven't done any of that. I missed all of it with you, remember?"

Mid-sentence Snow realized the reality of what she was saying and suddenly her eyes grew dark and her face fell. She really had missed everything. She hated being reminded of that. Sometimes it was easy to forget when she was with her daughter because she's only ever truly known her as an adult, but when subjects such as this appeared, reminders were everywhere. Quickly an epiphany came to her.

"I'm going to be a grandmother again….. How did I not realize this?" The light returned to her eyes and she was beaming. "Two grandchildren before I'm even thirty-five. I say, that must be world record."

Emma's face was a mix between confused and amused. "Seriously? What, did you just forget that I'm your kid? Gee, thanks."

Snow playfully pushed her daughter in the arm and threw her a pursed-lip smile. "You know what I meant. The age thing still throws me off sometimes that's all."

A peaceful silence fell at the end of the playful moment. For a minute Emma allowed herself to picture what having a daughter would be like. Short brown curls like Graham, her own green eyes and chin, and the most beautiful smile she'd ever seen.

But it could still be a boy, she reassured herself. Again, as if reading her thoughts Snow spoke up.

"We could find out you know." When Emma only looked confused she explained, "If you really would like to know if it's a boy or a girl…There's a way you could find out."

Emma sniggered, "Yeah. Like an ultrasound…?"

Snow shook her head. "No, no no no. That's not what I meant. You have to wait another month or more for that. I have a way you could find out now."

Not waiting a moment for Emma to give consent, she leapt off the bed and dashed toward the front door, calling out, "I'll be back in less than an hour! It's getting toward lunch time so try to eat something! And take a nap!"

And with that the front door shut loudly and Emma was left in abrupt silence.

**Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought? Did it seem realistic?**


	3. Chapter 3

The shuffling of keys awoke Emma from her daze. After attempting to sleep for almost a half hour she'd given up and settled on letting her mind wander. She's first thought of food, which made her stomach churn, so she quickly jumped to people. Which lead to people she knew, and then to her family, and then ultimately to whomever this new little person would be. It seemed she was unable to avoid these thoughts.

She hadn't faced this problem with Henry. Maybe it was because she had known she wouldn't keep him or because she had, at that point, shut herself so far down emotionally that she kept her mind steadily vacant of any thoughts whatsoever. Either way, this daydreaming about her child thing was definitely new. Maybe Snow would know about it, if only she could get up the nerve to ask.

At the moment, Emma was still splayed out contentedly on her back across the expanses of the bed. Embracing the isolation, she bravely slid up the bottom of her shirt and pressed her hand onto her bare stomach. Heat radiated between each surface and she shut her eyes tight, almost trying to send a message. She knew that her child couldn't _really _hear her thoughts, and it was too early for him or her to kick back, but something told her they were connected. For the first time she felt like they really were meant to be.

With a jostling of keys, the front door swung open and Emma quickly shuffled her shirt back down and waited, still lying on the bed.

Heavy footsteps plodded across the living room and made their way toward the bedroom. Snow shuffled through the doorway, removed her jacket, a scarf, a hat, slipped off her boots, and procured her purse from the depths of her ensemble. Sliding her socked feet across the wooden floor she made her way to the bed and plopped down in her usual spot. She swung her legs gracefully up onto it and set her purse in her lap and waited patiently.

Emma quickly got the message and sat up, mirroring her mother's position and stifled a laugh at how confusing the situation had become. The rather serious and determined look on Snow's face suddenly made her apprehensive. She moved to speak but her mother began to instead.

"Sorry I took so long. Gold took some convincing. Which was odd. I mean it's not like _he_ has a use for it." Snow played with the purse in her lap as she said the words that were almost directed at herself. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, "Anyways…" She looked directly at Emma, "I got you something. From my…from _our_…land."

She dug into her purse and pulled out what started as a chain and soon became a necklace. The pendant, well it wasn't exactly a pendant, was a large circle, mostly made of a metal or an alloy and rather rustic in appearance. Emma tried her best to not appeared too confused by the gift as she asked,

"What…_is it_?"

"Oh it's—" Snow suddenly stopped as she realized what the necklace truly meant and what it could do. Of course, as she had set out to buy it she'd had all of this in mind, but she hadn't thought about what Emma's opinion on it would be. She's just gotten herself overly excited and now she was left feeling ashamed of herself.

"You know what, it's stupid. I shouldn't have even gotten it. I didn't think about it really, I should've realized you might not want—"

"A necklace?" Emma laughed lightly. "It's just a necklace… what's there to be worried over?" Emma paused, a thought creeping forward. "It _is _just a necklace right?"

Snow looked up sheepishly, "Well…not exactly. It's kind of _charmed._"

Emma tilted her head and spoke cautiously, "Charmed _how_?"

Her mother's expression looked even guiltier, and her voice came out small and slightly mumbled, "To tell you the sex of your child."

Emma sat back. She couldn't decide if what she was feeling was anger that her mother had assumed she'd want to know, or seemingly forced it upon her, or excitement at the fact that she could know at any moment. Or maybe it was that fear again? Fear of the reality of it all.

"I…uh…" she stuttered.

"I know, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I'll just take it back." Snow began to put the necklace back in her purse but a hand grasped her wrist and stopped her.

"No," Emma commanded lightly. "Wait."

The blonde inhaled to steady her nerves. "How does it work?"

Snow's eyes immediately lit, and she explained exactly what Charming's mother had told her before, all those years ago. More like lifetime ago, to be honest.

Emma listened intently, fairly astonished at the fact that the pendant had belonged to her mother, her grandmother, and her great-grandmother. And who knows how many other generations before that. Suddenly, she had a thought.

"Well, if it can both tell you while you're pregnant _and _tell you about a future child, why don't you use it on yourself?"

Snow froze. "Oh, no. I wouldn't want to know. If it turns out that your father and I can never have another child I would rather figure it out over time and not abruptly in the moment. Not again. It was painful enough when it happened before you."

Emma smiled sadly. "I understand. But I have faith, besides…the universe wouldn't want me to be a spoiled only child right?"

Snow's face softened and she chuckled softly. "I suppose you're right."

Emma took a few calming breaths and extended her hand. "Go ahead."

Snow's eyes sparkled and she looked at her daughter with harbored excitement. "Really?" She finally understood at least some of what Ruth had felt when she's asked her to do the same.

The blonde nodded. Gently, Snow untangled the chain and loosely dangled the circular mass over her daughter's palm. Silence fell and it was almost like the room itself was holding its breath.

A moment passed and then the necklace began to sway. Snow took once glance at its orientation and beamed.

Emma took a minute longer and did her best to calculate the direction she was facing in relation to a compass. Looking down at it once she did her eyes widened.

"Is that saying what I think it's saying?" she asked softly, looking desperately at Snow for confirmation.

Her mother looked back warmly and smiled. "Yes. Yes it is."

**There you have it. I hope you all enjoyed it. I've gotten a lot of requests to continue however...is that something you all would be interested in? I wouldn't be able to continue until next week at the earliest, but if it's something you want, I might consider it. I adore writing for these characters.**


	4. Chapter 4

**YAY I'm going to continue the story, I was so blown away by the people that responded. I didn't want to make you wait too long not knowing if I'd continue or not, so here's a super short chapter to show that I AM continuing. This one and the next one will be flashbacks to three months or so from where I left off. **

_FLASHBACK_

Emma snuck quietly through the front door of her parent's loft, and breathed a sigh of relief upon realizing that no one was home. Shuffling to the downstairs bathroom as swiftly as possible, she dove into the cabinet and rummaged around, silently hoping to find what she was searching for. After a minute of digging she found it. Pulling it from the depths she turned the box over and over, double checking that it was what she wanted, and stashed it discreetly up the sleeve of her jacket.

Aggressively shoving any thoughts out of her mind, as to why her parents would have one of these stashed in their bathroom, she raced out the front door, leaving no traces of her presence behind. Heading back to the station, Emma threw a glance at the clock-tower. 1:23. She had hours before Graham would be back. And if her inklings were correct, she would need those hours.

She bustled into the office, dropped her keys on her desk, and traveled directly to the restroom down the hall. By this time, her hands had started quivering and her breaths were short. But she couldn't panic yet. Not until she had a definitive answer.

No two minute wait had ever felt longer. Emma paced back and forth constantly glancing at the clock on the wall in her office, and back at the stick on her desk. She briefly thought that it probably would have been smarter to wait for the results in the restroom, given that someone could walk in, but as of late, few people visited the Sheriff's station. She'd take her chances. She'd rather have a desk to sit at to contemplate the result than a toilet or the bathroom floor, when the time came.

If it would _ever _come.

The clock finally passed its mark and she suddenly felt her knees go week. Time was no longer an excuse, it was all up to her to make the choice to look. Her mind split into halves, with one side screaming at her to leave it be; ignore it and it would go away. The other side pushed her toward the desk, until her hand grasped around the left end of it.

She looked toward the ceiling and took a shuddering breath. Her entire future was going to be determined by this once glance. But in reality, she knew that the future was already determined. For the last month, she guessed, she either had or hadn't been… There wasn't another option or truth. _Just do it._

Before she could stop herself, Emma's head tilted downward and her eyes found her answer. The answer that she'd known all along but even now, still didn't want to accept. Just as it had with Henry, the little plus sign shone back at her, carrying with it the weight of the world.

She was pregnant. Again.

_Shit. _

**Just a note: Updates won't be super close together like before because I'm writing as I post as opposed to previous fics where I write it ALL before hand. Plus I have an Emma/Neal one in mind that would be very incredibly time-consuming, but I may never do it so... But I won't abandon it! **

**Reviews really do make me write faster, by the way :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**SO SORRY IT'S BEEN MONTHS. I have no excuse, I won't waste your time with the typical "life is busy" excuse. I should've updated sooner. Sorry, darlings.**

Emma Swan was positive that if she kept at it for another minute, she would surely wear a hole right through the floor and into the apartment below. And she could only assume that Gold would be none too pleased and up their rent in response. But she had yet to find a way to calm herself. So she continued pacing.

To hell with the floor. There were more pressing matters at hand. At hand, in uterus, consuming her life…Yes. There were definitely bigger things to worry about. And worry about them, she did.

A baby. A _baby. _On the list of things that could accidentally occur in her life and drastically change it, unplanned pregnancy sat right at the top. And she had managed to check that box twice now. Not to mention that those check marks occurred fourteen years apart. Well woop-de-doo…Ten points for Emma.

And twenty for Graham and his seemingly _very_ fertile self.

It had been a week. She had denied it, shoved it aside, ignored it, _everything_. But as fate so often liked to remind her, life cannot be ignored and you can't run away from it forever.

* * *

Peanut butter. It was all she could think about. Well, besides the human being currently nestled in her—GOD. Why did he have to be so cheeky? Graham _knew_ that face would put her at his mercy with a single glance, and now look where it'd gotten them. She was never having sex again after this kid was born. Never.

Oh. Right. Peanut butter. Peanut butter would solve all of her problems, she was convinced.

Maybe with some toast.

* * *

Emma Swan could cook. She knew she could cook. Give her a recipe and an oven or a stove and she could whip out a delicious dish. What Emma Swan could not do, however, was work a toaster.

On many an occasion she found herself in complete lack of a toaster; though only by her own doing. In times of frustration she found that attacking them with her underlying hatred for them was therapeutic.

Part of her liked to think that maybe if this kid didn't make her have to pee all the time she might've avoided all of what came next. But somewhere deep down she knew that her and toasters were just a love affair that was never meant to be; no matter the circumstances.

Emerging from the bathroom, she found herself confronted with the unpleasant stench of burnt bread. Cursing, she shuffled her socked feet across the wood floor and into the kitchen, popping up the lever on the toaster and releasing two large black pieces of bread. Correction. No longer bread. More like charcoal.

She felt her fingers start to tightened as her frustration rose but she shoved it aside and reached to retrieve the remnants of her would-be snack.

As she grasped the second piece, and large chunk broke off and remained settled deep within the still hot coils of the toaster. Now, if Emma Swan had been in a clear state of mind, she would have—oh who was she kidding. She would've done the following actions all the same. Dipping her fingers into the slot, she moved them around blindly in search of the missing scrap. Misjudging the width of the space she rocket her index finger into one of the hot coils, and seared the middle knuckle without abandon.

Whipping her hand out with a sharp cry she immediately pressed the burned joint into her mouth and sucked on it until she reached the sink. She hissed as the water numbed the throbbing and, once content with the pain level of the sting, backed away from the sink and set herself toward the bedroom to fetch a book.

Or maybe watch TV. Her blood pressure had already risen enough and she was close to launching into one of her piss parties which the toaster was not likely to survive. A book might not be enough of a distraction.

Or maybe it would've been. But she would never know.

Earlier that hour she had hastily done the dishes as an attempt to keep her mind off of the mounting pressure of reality, and apparently splashed water about and onto the floor. Which her foot promptly stepped into en route to the hallway that led to the bedrooms. The cool liquid seeped quickly through her sock and left her with a chilling, and quite agitating, wet spot on the sole of her foot.

Groaning audibly she reached down to pull off the sock, hopping around on her other foot.

_"Damnit." _Bouncing crookedly, her body wobbled about until making its way back into the eating area. She started moving backward and felt herself about to fall, so she twisted her waist violently and swung her jumping foot out in the opposite direction, hoping to connect with the ground and stabilize herself.

As fate would have it she _did_ connect with something. But not the ground. The big toe of her left foot slammed directly into the leg of the table, spurning another sharp cry. Responding automatically, she reached out for anything she could grasp and in doing so, her wrist connected with a vase on the table and she watched in horror as it toppled over the edge and onto the floor, shattering immediately and sending even more water across the kitchen floor.

Emma dropped her throbbing foot to the ground, released an exasperated growl and observed the scene before her. Running her tight fingers through her curls, she could feel a headache mounting and knew that she needed to release the fuming anger she was bottling or else she might dump it on the nearest victim.

She needed to scream, to hit something, or to tear something to shreds. Her life felt like it was slowly falling to pieces and the last five minutes of her day were driving her to the precipice of a breakdown. She couldn't explain the anger but for the longest time it had been her go to emotion. This moment was no exception.

The blood pumped through her veins and down her arms and her fists clenched. She needed to hit something. Now.

_It had been said many timed that Graham did not have the greatest luck._ He had his heart taken out, crushed, and coincidences and happenstance were very much _not _in his favor. This instance was no exception.

Having snuck silently in the door amongst Emma's water-table-vase fiasco, he walked up behind her and made the stupidest comment a man in that position could have made.

"Wow. Your day is going _great_ isn't it."

He would've added a chuckle at the end of his words if it weren't for the hurtling fist that connected with his jaw as a certain fuming blonde whirled around and walloped him across the face. The force knocked him backwards and he stood hunched over and in shock, his wide eyes rising up to the ones of his girlfriend who looked more frenzied than he'd ever seen her.

He didn't even want to know what he'd done _now_. Before he could ask, realization hit Emma's eyes and she stepped backwards wanting to distance herself from her unsuspecting victim. Her eyes started to wet and her brow knitted tightly together, her mouth open and slack. She took a second step back, but upon doing so, slid into the large puddle onto the floor and sent her foot out from under her and throwing her form into the air before connecting her rear firmly with the kitchen floor.

The thump was definitely loud enough to be heard a floor below.

Emma Swan was officially done. After the girlish shriek left her mouth and the shock of her slip subsided, she collapsed on her back and sprawled out starfish-style in defeat. Her wild curls laid spiraling in all directions and the puddle was slowly working its way through her clothing. But at this point she really didn't care.

"I give up. I actually, _seriously_, give up," she called out into the quiet air before bursting into tears. Or was it laughter?

She really couldn't tell. Either way, her body was shaking with giggles and she was smiling open-mouthed while tears poured from her eyes. The world had chewed her up and spit her out, it'd been the shittiest week she'd had in a long time, and even her emotional state had been turned on its head.

She'd officially lost what little control she had left.

Graham, who remained a spectator through most of it, was left utterly speechless. It had been a normal day for him, albeit a bit boring, but otherwise ordinary. He'd come home to what he _thought_ was a humorous display.

"Emma?" he finally spoke.

She calmed herself and sighed. "You know this is your fault right?"

"What is?" Graham was even more confused than before. He had no idea what was going on.

Emma stayed sprawled out on the floor for another minute before speaking so softly that it was almost impossible to hear. "I'm pregnant."

**So even though I don't deserve reviews after making you wait that long, they always make my day anyways :) Love you!**


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